


Sticky Eyes

by stephanericher



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:18:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's as if he’s just intruded on something very private, as if Keith and Shiro have somehow sequestered themselves off from the rest of the room and Coran’s very accidentally been trapped in their orbit like an errant comet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sticky Eyes

Coran’s been meaning to have a quick talk with Shiro about food, namely the macronutrient proportions that humans need—it’s not that the paladins are falling behind or performing far below expectation, but that perhaps they could be doing a little better with some more unsaturated fat in their diets (or perhaps not). Shiro’s not in any of his usual places; no one responds to a knock on his door; the training deck is empty; Pidge is in the control room with Allura, and no one’s in the kitchen. Coran doubles back (it’s not like Shiro to play this kind of hiding game) and checks the den, and perhaps Shiro’s been on the couch this whole time but he’s so quiet it almost makes Coran want to tiptoe through the room. The only sound is the rhythmic scratch of a pen on paper, quaint (it was quaint ten thousand years ago) but perhaps comfortingly so for humans.

The source of the sound is Keith, sitting on the couch opposite Shiro with a sheaf of papers spread out all around him, maps or star charts or something of that ilk, marking each one up carefully with red ink. Lance is sprawled out upside-down on another couch; Hunk is next to him reading a book; they seem almost removed from the scene and Coran has to glance back at them to make sure they’re even there. Because somehow, they’re not affected by the gravity that makes Shiro lean forward and stare at Keith, more transfixed by his process than Keith is engrossed in marking up the paper, the pull of the force between them pulling on Coran’s attention and shifting his line of sight. Keith bites his lip; Shiro leans even farther forward; it's as if he’s just intruded on something very private, as if Keith and Shiro have somehow sequestered themselves off from the rest of the room and Coran’s very accidentally been trapped in their orbit like an errant comet.

Perhaps, he decides, the question can wait for later. Or Pidge might know. So Coran heads off, still halfway distracted by…that.

He soon forgets about it; there are always more things to do around the castle that need his attention, and that connection is gone or at least not noticeably by the time the paladins get around to practicing together, and so Coran decides that it’s probably a one-time thing and certainly nothing to worry about. Or speculate on. But then, two days later, they’re all on the bridge and it happens again, without warning and in plain view of everyone else.

The main conversation devolves quickly (as these often do); one minute they’re all talking about plotting the course and the next Pidge and Hunk are on their own tangent about parallax and Allura’s actually punching in the coordinates and Lance is asking for another explanation. Coran’s not sure how he can make this one simpler (don’t they teach basic astrophysics at schools on Earth?) so he pulls on his mustache to stall for time and before he’s done Shiro’s already started his own explanation.

He’s pulling in metaphors Coran really wouldn’t use, but whatever he’s saying seems to be getting through to Lance as his expression turns from bewilderment to something closer to understanding. And whenever he asks for clarification, Shiro twists and rewraps his words quickly, simplifying almost like an automated refactoring program. Interesting.

Coran turns to perhaps make a comment to Keith, but instead of catching Keith’s eye he nearly has to look away himself. Keith’s mouth has turned from its usual stern set into a soft smile and he’s staring toward Shiro and Lance—his eyes move, and they’re definitely following the animations of Shiro’s hands; he’s in rapt attention the same way Shiro had been the other day, completely transfixed, as if they’re two black holes on a course of slow collision and Coran’s just space debris caught in their path, space debris who has once again intruded on a private moment (but even now it seems not to matter, as if whether or not he looks is inconsequential).

* * *

The tension between Keith and Shiro tightens like a high wire, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that being around them sometimes feels like walking on a high wire, like he has to spin his arms and shout conspicuously to keep his balance and even that might be enough. It’s not as if something’s about to explode, but as if something might break and spill over like a glass of water squeezed so hard it cracks.

They’re not just giving each other longing gazes; they’re stealing glances all the time, when they’re eating breakfast or being debriefed or just hanging around with the other paladins. And the other paladins have definitely noticed something’s up; they’re not complete idiots and they can’t help but get caught in the middle like when Shiro’s typing with one hand and eating with the other and squinting at the coordinates and Keith’s fork is suspended in midair as he watches even though the paladins had all been complaining about how that oh-so-grueling practice had made them all starving, and Hunk is still eating but his gaze is swiveling from Keith to Shiro and back, or when they’ve just landed on an occupied planet and Keith’s figured out how to navigate across the swamps and trenches to the people, and under his helmet Shiro’s eyes are fixed on Keith’s face and Coran half-expects him to start reciting an anguished declaration of love right there and when he averts his gaze, Pidge is squinting at both of them and crossing her arms as if that’s what she’s expecting, too. And when Keith catches Shiro looking at him and when Shiro catches him back, they both turn away furiously blushing darker than fresh-blooming flowers back on Altea, and the tension wobbles and stretches like a guitar string tuned way too high already.

Sometimes Coran considers saying something, perhaps to nudge things along. After all, if the tension breaks at the wrong time (when they’re on a mission, say) things could be disastrous. And they can’t afford to let this interfere as much as it already does with their duties, when they just stare during times of actual importance and he’s not sure they’re listening to directions at all. But trying to move it before it’s ready might make things even worse, or at least that’s how it’s always been in Coran’s experience. And certainly, if they wait until they’re ready and then do something, it could strengthen the bonds between all of the paladins. (On the other hand, it would make things much easier on everyone else without all the tension hanging over their heads indefinitely.)

And then, somehow, it breaks. Something must have happened; Coran’s not sure what but he doesn’t really need to know since the effects seem to be positive (and, with all of these, he can hazard a very good guess). They’re still staring at each other, but not all the time, and when they do what passes between them isn’t as sharp and urgent and full of longing; it’s calmer and quieter and softer than a grassy meadow. And when they both look at once, they turn away slowly and smile at each other first, passing something in a wave between them, encrypted so that only they have the keys to understand the exact meaning.

* * *

“Coran.”

“Yes?”

Allura is staring at him, the mice lined up on her shoulders. (This had better not be about not doing the dishes last night and this happening to be the night she’d gone in to get a midnight snack.)

“The mice just told me that Shiro and Keith are dating.”

“Oh?” says Coran. “I didn’t know they’d made it official.”

“But…you knew? How?”

“Isn’t it…” Well, he can’t exactly ask her if it’s obvious, because clearly it hadn’t been to her. “That is, have you seen the way they look at each other?”

“Things were tense, but I thought they were arguing.”

“Well,” says Coran.

Perhaps the easiest way is to show her, and Coran has it on good authority (his own) that they’d both last been spotted together, talking on one of the couches. The chances that it’s devolved into some sort of silent staring contest are high, and chances that they’re doing something else that might prove they’re dating (if indeed they are; Coran doesn’t fully trust those mice, not since one of them bit him).  

They’re still there, and sure enough Shiro’s staring with a silly kind of smile on his face at Keith reading a book. Allura furrows her brow. Keith turns the page and glances up, catching Shiro’s eye. They speak without words, somehow their gestures affirming that they would very much like to be close enough to touch each other, and Keith’s halfway onto Shiro’s lap with Shiro’s arm around his waist when Shiro kisses his neck, and this time it’s not just a feeling; Coran knows he’s intruding.

Allura trails off after him. “I don’t see why they couldn’t just tell us.”

“They will on their own time,” says Coran. “Let them have that for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> what kind of sheith hell have i ended up in.............


End file.
